


miserably, honestly, imperceptively

by cherryfizzies



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Fluff, M/M, What's the opposite of gay panic, helpful Arnold, oh connor, requited but difficult about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:33:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryfizzies/pseuds/cherryfizzies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Does he make your heart kind of flutter?” Arnold asked one day.</p><p>Kevin felt like he couldn’t breathe as he choked out, “Yes.”</p><p>“Does he make your eyes sort of blur?” Nabulungi asked, on his other side.</p><p>Kevin closed them and said, “Oh no.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	miserably, honestly, imperceptively

The first week _after_ his first week in Uganda was a nightmarish and chaotic mess of a week, but in a very controllable very wonderful way that Kevin found immense comfort in.

The week was spent in a jumbled confusion of paperwork and begging, taking Kevin’s blissful _Fuck him,_ and turning it into _let’s really stay here, let’s really do this, oh wow, oh shit, getting permission to do so would probably make this a whole lot easier, huh._

His entire life everything always went _right,_ the rules were always followed, everything precise; his hair always perfect and his shirt neatly tucked. The challenge of wrangling his life back into something that resembled even a shred of sense was like taking his first breath of fresh air from a room that he’d always thought was outdoors.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it without Arnold. He was forever grateful for what his best friend managed to teach him, and with every hour he continued to live on the planet with him, he believed that there was still good in the world.

Elder McKinley was proving to be a huge help too, and without the guidance of his district leader, Kevin wasn’t entirely certain they’d have managed to stay in Uganda, let alone stay with the church. He quickly grew used to his leader’s company, looking forward to spending time together despite Elder McKinley being a bit of a stickler for the rules. It was respectable if not a mild inconvenience.

“It’s best to just tell the truth,” McKinley had said with a shrug, handing Kevin their letter addressed to the mission president. “It’s against the rules to lie anyway, so we might as well.”

Kevin was more than proud to proofread the letter, honestly just pleased that McKinley trusted him with a task. Kevin has the suspicion that McKinley wasn’t a huge fan of him, after quickly kicking him to the curb with his initial failures.

Kevin still felt shreds of shame when he thought about his actions upon his arrival in Uganda.

The letter explained, in no great detail, the complete truth. At least, everything that Elder McKinley thought was the truth. The letter explained that the Africans misunderstood Arnold’s attempts at metaphors to help them understand certain themes that would otherwise be unrelatable, and that surely Arnold had just been too embarrassed to correct them, as McKinley was certain that if he’d been in Arnold’s shoes he’d have done the same.

Kevin nodded as he proofread, he made minor suggestions, and even threw himself under the bus, admitting that he’d left his companion to handle the situation alone.

Once they finalized a meeting with the mission president, Kevin watched his leader sweet talk his way into shutting down the camp only after they’d all finished out their missions. That it was too heartbreaking to think of failing, of going home or being transferred - that surely it could be sorted out.

A compromise was made; an agreement that once Elder McKinley’s mission was over- effectively cutting Kevin and Arnold’s mission three months short- the district would cease. Which was fair, Kevin supposed. It was Kevin and Arnold that screwed up, not the others.

“Honesty always works,” Elder McKinley said with a nod. Kevin elected to ignore the jacket of _I-told-you-so_ McKinley wore for many days after. He also ignored how well the arrogance suited his leader.

So, they stayed. Things were very much the same, but very much different all at once as their tasks switched gears from proselytizing to community service, generally trying to improve the quality of life in Kitguli.

Kevin had a tough time connecting with the village people, though, and was frankly still uncomfortable with the idea that he could run into the General or anyone associated with him, so he resigned himself to duties that could be performed within the mission hut. Proofreading for The Book of Arnold and helping McKinley with paperwork and overwhelming district leader duties.

McKinley’s tasks had doubled, and he was prepared to take full responsibility for anything that could even potentially go awry, as per the president’s rules. Kevin felt that it was _his_ responsibility to keep Elder McKinley from getting in any more trouble, to provide damage control for Arnold.

Arnold did his best on his own or with Nabulungi, and Kevin, now spending most of his time with Elder McKinley, was eager to prove himself and make a better impression than the Elder Price that McKinley had so easily cast away. They spent so much time together it was beginning to feel more like he was his companion, not Arnold, which was all fine by Kevin, as Arnold would always have a place in his heart as his best friend.

It often felt like Arnold should be in charge now, being a Prophet and all, but McKinley was still the district leader and Kevin could tell that even Arnold liked it that way. They all liked it that way, as McKinley had a certain connection to the rules that made it still feel like home, like there was still a rhyme and reason to things. Elder McKinley was extremely responsible and reliable and Kevin could see why he was chosen to be the district leader in the first place.

Breaking rules, though, was becoming commonplace. The simple ones, the stupid ones. Breaking rules also was a bit like eating potato chips. Or stealing donuts and blaming it on your brother. Breaking rules was easy and once you started doing it, it was hard to stop. The only hard part about it was the guilt, but even that wore off.

Arnold as the Prophet meant that the rules felt more bendable, and a bit more idiotic. To be handed the same level of punishment whether you committed murder, or slept in late was a tiring thought to process, so the boys quickly cast away their inhibitions and untucked their shirts, stayed up late, and were often seen without their companions.

It was hard to adjust at first, and it reminded Kevin of unsupervised children at a birthday party. Not that he’d ever attended an unsupervised birthday party, and even if he had, he certainly wouldn’t have been one to break into the candy and pop, but he still found it to be a good metaphor.

They were happy to indulge in these great new freedoms, all except for Elder McKinley. His mild disappointment with them all didn’t go unnoticed. He still hadn’t broken one single rule, at least not intentionally, as the only exception was 72. He was often found without Poptarts, who usually traipsed off with Elder Neeley, apologizing all the while. He probably let it slide due to technicality – it wasn’t Elder McKinley breaking the rules, it was Elder Thomas.

“Maybe we should just switch companions around,” Poptarts said one distressingly hot afternoon. “You and Elder Price would make a good pair, you’re always together,” he spoke with his hands, and made an undecipherable gesture between Kevin and Elder McKinley.

“Maybe,” Kevin said, “Except I wouldn’t switch for the world.”

Elder McKinley laughed – a short snorting sound that Kevin was learning meant that he was laughing at him as much as he was laughing with him. 

“Fair point, I can’t imagine anyone swapping with you, Elder Price. Unless Nabulungi was suddenly in the running for companions, you have nothing to worry about he’s all yours.” He slid out the door with only a semi-apologetic grin, Kevin laughed and called out a goodbye.

“We do spend a lot of time together,” Kevin said.

“Switching companions would be against the rules,” McKinley sighed.

“You’re no fun.” Kevin was sitting cross legged on the floor of the mission hut, sticky and uncomfortable in the blistering heat. Every afternoon in Uganda was hot, but this one was particularly scorching, and Kevin had the buttons on his shirt undone in an attempt to cool off.

“It’s okay to break the rules sometimes,” Kevin said, setting his checklist of tasks that Mafala had made up for them to the side.

“No,” McKinley said. His shirt was tucked in and buttoned up to his neck, he had sweat rolling down his forehead. He said, “Breaking the rules only leads to lying about breaking the rules.”

Kevin didn’t know what to think about that, so he pretended to read over his paperwork.

“You know,” he said, eventually. “Isn’t turning it off sort of like lying?”

“No,” McKinley turned in his chair. “It’s not.”

“Well, why not?” Kevin tucked his pen behind his ear and fanned himself with a heavy folder.

“What do you mean why not?” McKinley frowned, “Turning it off is taking control of untoward emotions and feelings so they don’t get in the way. I’m not lying about anything, I’m ignoring it.”

“So you’re not gay?” Kevin blurted. He cringed, immediately chastising himself for being so tactless. He blamed Arnold.

“Oh, is that what this is about?” McKinley flashed him a sunny smile and turned back to his work. “Does the idea that I often have gay thoughts bother you?”

“That’s not…I didn’t mean to say that,” Kevin said. “It doesn’t bother me, Elder, I just can’t see how you don’t consider it lying.”

“It’s not lying because I’m telling you the truth,” he sounded just barely irritated, like he’d explained this too many times and Kevin’s mind raced ahead, trying to solve the problems that might appear before they did. “I’m telling you that I have gay thoughts, and that I turn them off. I’m not gay, because it’s not proper. My faith is being tested and I’m failing miserably. That’s all truth.”

“Miserably?” Kevin prompted.

“Yes, miserably.” McKinley snapped his pen down and got up from his seat. He dropped himself to the floor in front of Kevin, and sighed.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Kevin asked, casting his folder aside to fold his hands together.

“No,” McKinley answered honestly, “But I think we ought to.”

“Why ought we?” Kevin asked.

McKinley looked at Kevin’s mess of strewn paperwork, and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. It stuck back funny and Kevin watched his tired, heavy lidded eyes scan the room.

“Can I tell you something, Elder Price?” he asked.

“Kevin,” Kevin responded. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

McKinley nodded distantly, and said, “Right, right. Kevin. Connor.”

Kevin grinned. Elder McKinley cleared his throat, and Kevin waited patiently.

“I…” he immediately trailed off, and Kevin reached out to press his fingertips to McKinley’s knee, urging him to continue.

McKinley let out a puff of disbelieving air and said, “Okay, so, you know Elder Thomas.” He made a gesture to the door that he’d just recently walked out of. 

“Yes,” Kevin replied. “I know Poptarts.”

“Right, yes, of course. Poptarts, Kevin, Connor.”

“Arnold, Chris, Nabulungi,” Kevin said.

“Kevin, this is serious,” Connor said.

Kavin held in his laugh and said, “Sorry, continue.”

“Right, so, Poptarts. Elder Thomas. Chris,” Connor sighed. “We didn’t always get along so well, you know?”

“A lot of companions don’t, Elder McKinley.”

“Connor.”

Kevin grinned, “Right.”

“Anyway,” he continued on, “We didn’t always get along because I overstepped some boundaries in the beginning. He was the first new friend I’d made in a long time, so I became…a bit overzealous.”

“Overzealous,” Kevin repeated.

“Yes,” Connor stared at him with those heavy lidded eyes of his and Kevin wished he had a cure for hell dreams and nightmares, a way to help Connor sleep at night, because if he did he’d have given it to him long ago. He’d invent a way to time travel and give it to him before they ever started.

He always looked so tired.

“I was a little _too friendly,_ ” Connor said.

“You had gay feelings for Elder Poptarts,” Kevin said, the proverbial lightbulb going off.

“And I told him so,” Connor sighed.

“Why would you do that?” Kevin asked, surely if he’d gotten a…a gay crush on his companion he’d never say so. Arnold was the only companion he’d ever had though, and he didn’t feel any such way about him, so he wasn’t sure his opinion on the matter counted.

“It was the honest thing to do,” Connor replied, and it was as easy as that. “I didn’t want him to find out later and be mad or untrusting.”

“So wait, he didn’t take it well? But he’s such a nice guy.”

“I think he almost fainted,” Connor admitted. “It took him by complete surprise. He didn’t talk to me for two weeks. And when he did again it was strictly business. I felt terrible.”

“I don’t understand, there’s nothing wrong with having gay thoughts,” Kevin said. “It’s…it’s perfectly natural isn’t it?”

“No,” Connor said. “It’s not.”

Kevin frowned and said, “But you two get along now, so I take it things went okay after, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Connor closed his eyes and smiled. “And thank goodness for that. He’s become one of my closest friends because I was honest, and once I had the opportunity to tell him it was fine, that I was ignoring it and overcoming God’s tests of strength, he understood. Now, he doesn’t mind at all.”

“You still like Poptarts?” Kevin asked. He was thrilled to be trusted with this information, to be trusted and important, he was excited that they would grow to be closer friends because of this.

“No,” he answered quickly. “I’m telling you this because I’m struggling with thoughts about someone else, and it’s his right to know.”

“Oh,” Kevin said. He wondered who caught Connor’s eye, and he thought that maybe, whoever it was, was a lucky guy. Connor was such a nice boy, respectable and always following the rules. If Kevin were the type to struggle with gay thoughts, he might have them about Connor. His stomach churned at the thought, and he said, “You don’t have to tell me who if you don’t want to.”

“No, I really do,” Connor looked extremely uncomfortable now and it took no time at all for Kevin to make the connection.

“Oh!” he sat up straight, and started fussing with his papers. “Oh, oh wow.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said adjusting his tie. 

“Well I suppose that’s alright,” Kevin finally said, patting his papers. “Yeah, I don’t mind that one bit.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t suppose so, no. It’s a bit weird, I’ll admit, but that’s because no one’s ever told me they’ve had gay thoughts about me before. No one’s ever told me they’ve had any thoughts about me at all, really, I think maybe I’m flattered.”

“It’s not something to be proud of,” Connor frowned.

Kevin shrugged and dropped his sticky back to the floor of the hut.

“Well, thank you for telling me,” he spoke to the ceiling. “I was just thinking, you know while we’re being honest, that if I had gay thoughts about anyone, they might be about you.”

Connor looked about torn in half making the decision between laying down next to him or crawling away, perhaps into a hole. Kevin patted the open spot next to him. Connor leaned forward onto an elbow, not quite committed to laying down.

“That’s…not really a good thing,” Connor said.

“Why not?” Kevin asked. “Honesty is always good, you said so yourself.”

“Of course, the honest part is good, it’s the meaning part I’m worried about.”

“You have to admit that I’m taking this much better than Poptarts, and that’s got to be a relief.”

“If you’re looking for praise, Kevin Price, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

Kevin just smiled up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “You’re a good friend, Connor,” he said, “It’s why I like being around you so much.”

“Please don’t say things like that,” Connor said, getting up. He left into the kitchen and didn’t return for a long time. Kevin stayed on the floor like that until Elder Davis came in and nearly tripped over him.

\--

Kevin was nervous that he’d done something to upset Connor, as he spoke tensely around him, and they didn’t mention the subject again for a few weeks. He itched to ask him what the problem was, but stayed silent so as to not “stir the pot,” as his mother often said. 

He’d talk about it again when he was ready.

“The thing is,” Connor said suddenly one day, many weeks later, cornering Kevin in the kitchen. “You don’t even realize how hard you’re making things for me.”

“Come again?” Kevin talked around a spoonful of cereal.

“My gay thoughts,” Connor clarified. “I’m still having them, and you telling me that that’s okay with you made them worse.”

“Worse how?”

“I don’t think you need to know,” Connor said, putting up a hand to shush Kevin before he could say anything more. “That’s not a lie, it’s me electing to keep my private thoughts to myself.”

“Well alright,” Kevin said, wiping milk off his chin with his sleeve.

“Can I ask you something?” Connor’s hand was hovering awkwardly like it wanted to reach out and touch Kevin, but it couldn’t decide where.

“Always,” Kevin said.

Connor stared for a moment before clearing his throat and saying, “Do you think Heavenly Father would bother going through all this trouble, the hell dreams, and the temptations just to test my faith?” He pushed his hair off his face.

Kevin processed the question, and ate another spoonful of cereal.

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to be asking,” he finally answered. “Considering my doubts.”

Connor nodded, but distantly like he was listening to someone else.

“Right, but, what do you think? If he is testing me, I mean, what is the point? How do I pass?”

“Um,” Kevin drank the remaining milk in his bowl and rinsed it. “I think that the most important person’s opinion on the matter is yours.”

“That’s…that’s a very appropriate answer, thank you. I’m sorry that I asked.” Connor turned, leaned his weight against the counter, and sighed.

“It’s alright,” Kevin said. “It’s honest. You’re not going to get any answers from me, or Arnold, or Heavenly Father.”

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Connor tipped his head back tiredly, and Kevin watched a bead of sweat roll down his throat and soak into his shirt.

“Was there a reason for the question?” Kevin asked, unsure of what to do with his hands or where to put his body, he stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. “Did you sleep okay?”

Connor snorted.

“Right,” Kevin said. “Well, do you want to go for a walk? You deserve a break.”

Connor didn’t say anything for a while, likely weighing his options, and Kevin continued to feel awkward, standing there like an idiot.

“Sure,” Connor said.

“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want.”

Connor nodded and pushed himself from the counter. Kevin watched the lithe way his limbs moved and he numbly followed him to the door.

They walked in silence, and Kevin could feel the cogs turning in Connor’s mind, the anxiety seeping from his skin. He felt like maybe he wanted to reach out and grab Connor’s hand to calm him down, the way Arnold often did for him. He thought maybe that would just confuse him more, though, so he left his hands to feel like lead at his sides.

\--

“I’ve been thinking,” Kevin said. He and Connor were playing cards, the curfew that Connor still adhered to was creeping up fast and would soon cut their time together short.

“About what?” Connor asked, displaying his winning cards.

Kevin stuck out his tongue, forever a sore loser, and scooped all the cards up to shuffle. He did a few tricks that used to impress his siblings, and started to deal.

“Hell dreams.”

“Oh,” Connor shifted uncomfortably and wiped his palms on his pants. “Did you have one? Did you need to talk about it?”

“No,” Kevin said. “I just. I was wondering about yours.”

“Why?”

“Well, I can only assume that they happen because of your…uh, thoughts, right?”

“Um, I suppose so,” Connor shifted again, but picked up his cards.

Kevin just nodded, and they played a few rounds before he spoke again.

“Well, you follow all the rules, and you’re a perfectly normal and well-mannered Mormon boy,” Kevin said. “So I just thought you should know that I don’t think it’s fair that you’re being tormented this way.”

“Oh,” Connor said.

“And I was thinking about what you said before about God testing you,” Kevin put his cards down and reached his hand out to do something, to touch Connor’s shoulder, maybe, but he just let it hover awkwardly before dropping it to the table between them. “And you know, well, maybe your hell dreams aren’t punishing you for being gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Connor said, and he said it with such finality that it startled Kevin.

“Well, I mean, I just think that maybe…” Kevin brought his fingers to his lips and thought about his words, trying to select them carefully. “I’m not suggesting that you’re lying, Elder, I think that if you’re having these dreams with such frequency that, maybe, the dreams aren’t warning you about the gay thoughts, but maybe they’re warning you about not accepting the truth and ignoring your feelings. Which, I think, might be just as wrong as lying, or having the gay thoughts in the first place.”

Connor frowned at him and said, “What do you mean?”

“Okay, I’ve only had hell dreams when I’ve made huge mistakes,” Kevin continued on. “Maybe it’s not that you’re making the mistake of being this way, maybe it’s that you’re making the mistake of lying to yourself about it. Heavenly Father put those thoughts in your head, and Heavenly Father can’t punish you for them.”

“Kevin Price,” Connor said, with his leader voice on. “The thing you need to understand here, is that I am a failure. Hell dreams are nothing but and minor inconvenience and a constant reminder of such. My faith is being tested and with every dream I know I’ve failed Him, and I can’t sit here and listen to you tell me I don’t understand Him or myself.” 

Kevin didn’t say anything.

“I’ve never forgiven myself for Steve or Poptarts, and once I crush it, I will never forgive myself for you, but what you need to understand is that I have control over it. It’s up to me, and Heavenly Father watches me fail every day. That’s why I have the dreams, and that’s why I need to focus.  
You know you’re not helping me when you say these things, Kevin.”

Kevin frowned and wished that Arnold was here. He always knew what to say to make someone feel better.

“Well, if Heavily Father is the creator and he doesn’t make mistakes, how can you be so sure? If he made you and made you have these thoughts, don’t you think it’s more probable you’re being punished for ignoring them?”

“No,” Connor said. “That’s not His will, and it’s not right. Heavenly Father didn’t _make me this way_. I’m straying from the path he intends for good Mormon boys, and it’s my responsibility to stay on track.”

“But-”

“No buts, Elder, that is how it is.”

“You can’t honestly, really believe that,” Kevin scooped up all the cards and shoved them back into their sleeve.

Connor stood up and said, “Yes, I do, and I don’t appreciate your insinuations.”

“Is everything okay out here?” Elder Neeley’s face appeared in the doorway.

“It’s under control,” Connor said. “Kevin and I are just having a disagreement.”

Elder Neeley looked between the two, and Kevin shrugged, so Neeley took a moment to contemplate, nodded, and walked back down the hall.

“Why do you even care?” Connor whispered, now, like he didn’t want to disturb anyone again.

Kevin took his time to think about his answer, and once Connor sat back down he said, “Because I care about you.”

“Please don’t say that,” Connor said.

“Well, you’re my friend,” Kevin corrected his words. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Connor’s mouth wobbled into a weird frown, and Kevin was overwhelmed with the need to shush him, to bring him into a hug and pat his hair the way Arnold did for Kevin the first few rough weeks in Uganda. 

“I only want to help,” Kevin said.

“Well you’re not helping.” Connor got up, pushed in his chair, and said, “It’s almost curfew. I’m going to bed, and I advise you do the same.”

Kevin frowned and nodded, his mind racing to think of something, anything, to say to make it better. He didn’t want to part ways on bad terms, but he was failing to come up with the words.

“Goodnight, Kevin,” Connor said, and left.

\--

“He really thinks so,” Kevin said. “It hurts just watching him deny himself, I don’t know how to help.”

“I don’t know, buddy, you can’t change people’s minds unless they want their mind to be changed,” Arnold was chaining together wildflowers in a way that the children of the village taught them how just hours before. Arnold picked it up quick, Kevin still couldn’t do it.

“I just want him to feel better,” Kevin said.

“Why?” Arnold asked.

“Because I like him, and I care about him, and I want him to be happy,” Kevin’s eyebrows knitted together. What kind of question was that, anyway? Why?

“You _like_ him?” Arnold asked.

Kevin understood that there was an implication there, but couldn’t quite place what it was.

“I don’t know?” He answered honestly. “I just think that if it were me having gay thoughts, I would just allow them. Of all the things to do wrong that’s hardly a very offensive one. He’s not murdering people, or, or shoving books where they don’t belong.”

Arnold shrugged and said, “Well yeah, I mean, that’s like being punished for loving too much, I don’t think Heavenly Father would care to do that, you know? It’s like Kirk and Spock, maybe it was never actually shown, like, out loud, but clearly they were, like, yanno.” He drew a shape in the air, but Kevin was sure what it meant.

“I’ve never seen Star Trek,” Kevin said.

“Buddy,” Arnold put his hand on Kevin’s shoulder and shook his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Kevin apologized earnestly.

Arnold linked the final flower in his chain around to the first one, and plopped the crown on Kevin’s head.

“Everything will be okay,” Arnold said, and Kevin felt like it would be.

Kevin plucked some more flowers and asked Arnold to teach him how to chain them, the kids were really bad at explaining it.

\--

Kevin still worked and spent all of his time with Connor, occasionally fighting the urge to push his hair out of his face for him, or dropping an arm around his shoulders.

He ignored the tossing of his stomach that always happened when Connor looked at him, and he swallowed the cotton that would get stuck in his throat when he was trying to talk to him.

He took this all to mean that he was angry with Connor for not _listening,_ that some rules like curfews and clothing, and - dare he say it - sexual preferences were _stupid._ They were rules that were asking to broken, because there’s no way Heavenly Father would ever care, if he even existed. That punishment every night in the waking world wasn’t worth the uncertainty of the latter days. Because maybe it would be better to break the rules and be punished later than to follow the rules and possibly still be punished later.

He wanted to pick Connor up and take him away to Planet Orlando where they could just spend all of their time together, happy, and Connor didn’t have to have a mental war with himself every waking minute of the day.

It was many months before Kevin realized what all of this meant, and even more for him to come to the mortifying conclusion that he had to _tell_ Connor.

“Does he make your heart kind of flutter?” Arnold asked one day.

Kevin felt like he couldn’t breathe as he choked out, “Yes.”

“Does he make your eyes sort of blur?” Nabulungi asked, on his other side.

Kevin closed them and said, “Oh no.”

He had to tell him. It was only fair.

He knocked on Connor’s door, and felt like he was going to throw up. He’d practiced his words with Arnold and Nabulungi, and when they thought he was ready, Nabulungi punched his shoulder and told him to _“Go get him!”_

As he stood there he hoped that maybe the earth would crack open and swallow him whole instead, because Connor was going to be so disappointed with him.

Connor answered after a few more knocks, and it looked like he’d perhaps been napping, his hair was all stuck up on one side, his face looked soft and had a crease across his cheek like his face has been pressed against the fold of his shirt or pillow.

“Kevin,” Connor said, sounding grateful. “Oh, Thank you for waking me, I fell asleep, and that’s no way to get work done, no sir.”

“Was it peaceful?” Kevin asked.

Connor gave him _a look,_ but said, “It was.”

“Good,” Kevin nodded. He didn’t know what to do with his hands -- how did anyone ever know what to do with their hands? So he shoved him in his pockets and he stared at the angle where Connor’s jaw met his throat.

“Did you need anything?” Connor asked.

“I need to talk to you,” Kevin said.

Connor nodded and stepped forward, but when Kevin didn’t move out of his way, he stepped back.

“Um, privately, if you don’t mind.”

Connor looked around, shrugged, and opened his door wider. “Come in,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, softly latching the door.

Kevin cleared his throat the same way he did whenever he was about to bring up something awkward, but didn’t say anything more. Connor asked, “We’re not going to get into another disagreement about my predicament are we?”

Kevin could tell he was uncomfortable with the idea of sitting, the only place to sit being the bed, so they both stood awkwardly instead.

“We might,” Kevin said honestly.

“Kevin-”

“But it’s not what you think, I’m not here to tell you you’re wrong.”

Connor looked at him curiously, like he couldn’t figure out what this was about.

“You’re the bravest person I know, Connor,” Kevin said with a deep breath.

“Thank you, but I don’t quite-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you this sooner,” Kevin rushed on, and wrung his hands together. “But I know that you respect honesty above anything else.”

“What’s this about?” Connor asked, putting his hands on his hips. Kevin stared at his thin fingers on his hipbones for longer than what was strictly necessary and took another deep breath.

“You told me that you liked me so easily, how did you do that?” Kevin asked.

Connor laughed hollowly, “It wasn’t easy,” he said.

“No,” Kevin agreed. “It’s not.”

Connor looked at him, but Kevin looked up at the ceiling instead of at his face.

“Are…you,” Connor cleared his throat. “What are you implying?”

Kevin felt the heat on his face and he stumbled through his words quickly, swallowing his embarrassment. “I’m implying that I like you, too. That I didn’t realize it until a few weeks ago, and stayed quiet about it. That maybe I disagreed with your opinions because I want to save you so you can be happy forever because I think you’re a very important person, Connor McKinley, and I think that you deserve better than what you get, and I think that telling you this is going to ruin what we have because you won’t be able to trust me anymore, and you want to get better, but I don’t want to get better, I want to be with you.”

Connor took a wobbly step back, and Kevin brought up his arm to catch Connor if he were to faint. It certainly looked like that was what he was about to do.

“You can’t,” Connor said.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said, and he was.

“It’s not right,” Connor said.

“But it’s honest,” Kevin said. “It would be wrong of me not to tell you.”

“He’s testing me,” Connor said, stepping back again. “This is a test, you don’t really feel this way. If I succumb you’ll just tell me that it was a misunderstanding and then I’m doomed to live in hell.”

“You already live in hell,” Kevin said sadly.

“I-” Connor’s hands were shaking and Kevin wanted to badly to grab them. He did.

“No, I’m--you can’t.” Connor said, and Kevin held his hands tighter.

“I do,” Kevin said. “And I’m really sorry, I know it’s not helping you.”

“It’s not,” Connor said, and his voice tossed up in pitch in the way that meant he was likely going to start crying. Kevin didn’t want to make Connor cry.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. It just happened, and I can’t help it.”

“If I can help it, you can help it.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” Connor said. “We, we can work on it together, we can fix it, everything will be okay.”  
Kevin frowned.

“Nothing needs to change, Connor,” Kevin said. “Neither of us have to act on our feelings. You can fix yourself if that’s what you want, and I’ll just be damned to hell.”

He could see how glassy Connor’s eyes were now, and he was struck, for the first time, with the want to kiss him. The need to kiss him. He wouldn’t, of course, he couldn’t, but oh, he wanted to. Instead, he kept holding Connor’s shaking hands, and stood there wondering if a hug would be improper or not.

“Arnold always hugs me when I feel sad,” Kevin said carefully. “I can give you a hug, if you want.”

Connor’s tears spilled over, he rushed forward to wrap his arms around Kevin’s middle, and buried his face into Kevin’s neck. Kevin brought his arms around him, and rubbed at his back. He pressed his cheek into Connor’s hair, and rocked back and forth.

“It’s okay,” he said.

“I don’t want you to be damned to hell,” Connor said into Kevin’s collar.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said. “If it makes you feel better, I’m sure coffee already sent me there.”

Connor hiccupped a small laugh, and Kevin pulled him in tighter.

“I like you too much,” Connor said. “I’m failing, I’m failing and I hate you for it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said again.

“You’re not even mad at me,” Connor mumbled now, and Kevin could barely hear him through his tears and the cotton of his shirt. He could feel his breath on his collarbone, though and he resisted the urge to kiss the top of his head.

“I couldn’t be,” Kevin said.

“You should be, I ruined you,” Connor pulled back now, and wiped his face on his sleeve.

Kevin frowned, and pulled back too. He smoothed Connor’s hair where it was sticking up funny and said, “I ruined myself.”

Connor wiped at his face again and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Kevin asked.

“No,” Connor answered, forever honest.

“Do you want me to stay with you, or do you want to be alone?” Kevin asked, carefully picking his words.

“I…I want to get back to work,” Connor said. “But I want you with me.”

“We can do that,” Kevin said. He ran his hand across Connor’s hair again, and let his hand linger across Connor’s cheekbones.

Connor shook his head, and Kevin stepped back.

“Let’s go work at the Church,” Kevin said. “We can go say hello to Mafala, Arnold, and Nabulungi and see if they need anything.”

Connor nodded, and led the way through the hut.

\--

They were over a year into their mission, now, and Kevin wondered if his feelings for Connor were ever going to fade. It certainly would be uncomfortable to bring them home with him, but if that’s what happened, then so be it.

He wondered if they would stay in touch.

He was sure Connor would never allow anything to happen between them, between being riddled with self-doubt and guilt, and Kevin selfishly wished he could change his mind.

As long as Connor was happy, Kevin was happy. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Arnold would drop not-so-subtle hints their way, and Connor would always stare at Kevin like it was his fault Arnold took it upon himself to hit on Connor for him.

“He’s my best friend,” Kevin told him. “He would have found out even if I didn’t tell him explicitly.”

Connor had frowned when he nodded, and Kevin didn’t have it in him to feel guilty about it.

Today, though, Kevin was having a bad day. He was hot and tired, his head ached, and he had volunteered to help at the Kitguli doctor’s office for an hour more before going home.

“You look worse than the sick people, boy,” The Doctor said. “Go home, you’re no help. Fuck a frog and come back tomorrow.”

Kevin smiled gratefully, and took off.

When he got home, he dropped himself onto the couch, and subsequently into Connor’s lap. Well, his head into Connor’s lap.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Um,” Connor said, keeping his arms up and in what must be a rather uncomfortable position so as to not touch Kevin at all. “Are you feeling okay?”

“No,” Kevin said. His eyes stung when he closed them, and his body felt so heavy he wasn’t sure he could move it off Connor’s lap if his life depending on it. If Connor’s life depended on it.

“I’m sick,” he said.

“Oh, no,” Connor said. “Not contagious I hope.”

“No,” Kevin said, turning into the couch, and pressing his face against Connor’s stomach. “Headache.”

“Oh, well, do you need anything?”

“I need to lay here until I no longer feel like a pile of-”

“Hey,” Connor said.

Kevin laughed softly and felt himself falling asleep.

“It’s not gay, Connor, you can put your arms down.”

“I’m not certain that snuggling with a boy is in God’s will,” Connor said thickly.

“It’s not snuggling, I’m sick.”

Connor remained quiet, and kept his arms up. He hooked one over the back of the couch, and let the other fall to the arm.

“Just five minutes,” Kevin said, stumbling through his words.

“Five minutes,” Connor said.

When Kevin woke he could tell it was much more than five minutes later, and he realized with a flinch that Connor’s arm was draped over his chest. His weight leaned into him, and the steady and heavy way he was breathing indicated that Connor had fallen asleep as well. Connor had slid low in his seat, legs crossed out in front of him, and Kevin’s face was still pressed, quite comfortably, into his stomach.

Kevin’s head felt much lighter, but he stayed where he was. Connor seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and he didn’t want to take that away from him. It seemed to be pretty late into the evening, most of the Elders had likely already eaten dinner which meant most of them also likely walked through and saw them on the couch together. Kevin didn’t so much mind, but he knew that Connor would be bothered once he woke up and realized it.

Kevin rolled over, but kept his head in Connor’s lap. Connor’s long, beautiful fingers were dangling in front of his face from the arm of the couch, and he carefully and timidly reached out, and ran a single finger across the blue veins on the back of his hand.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He was sleepy enough to probably drift back off, but too alert to do so. He listened to the sounds of the hut around him, he could hear the sink on in the kitchen, and some voices from down the hall. He laid there with his eyes closed until Connor finally moved. Kevin felt him take in his surroundings, and slowly sit up, careful to not jostle Kevin, who kept his eyes closed.

“Why are you pretending to be asleep?” Connor asked, his voice slow and heavy with sleep.

Kevin smiled immediately giving himself away and said, “I’m not sure.”

Connor gently pushed at his shoulder, and Kevin sat up.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“I do, thank you. Sorry for that, I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

“You hope I…what?” Connor asked, rubbing at his eyes. “What time is it?”

Kevin turned his wrist so that Connor could read his watch, and Connor hummed. It was just past dinner time.

“I mean, I know you’re not gay, that you don’t want to date me,” Kevin said, continuing his apology. “So, I’m sorry I did that, it just felt so nice to be next to you. But now that I feel better I realize how it could be misconstrued.”

“Oh,” Connor said, covering his face with his hands. “You think that I wouldn’t want…”

Kevin laid back down, but with his head against the opposite arm rest and his feet in Connor’s lap.

“I wouldn’t like anything more in the world than to date you, Kevin Price.”

“You would?” Kevin asked. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“Of course I want to,” he said. “We can’t because it’s improper.”

“But if you want to, shouldn’t you?”

“Just because you want to do something doesn’t mean you should. If I wanted to murder you I know I shouldn’t.”

Kevin shrugged noncommittally and Connor couldn’t hold in his laugh.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“If it made you happy, I guess I wouldn’t mind,” Kevin said, pressing his foot against Connor’s arm and knocking it off the rest.

“You’re flirting, Kevin,” Connor said.

“Yeah, Kevin,” Arnold’s head appeared from the kitchen, so he must have been the one fussing at the sink. “Sounds a lot like flirting to me, too.”

Kevin groaned.

“You know,” Arnold continued, “I’m going to, uh, talk about the Book with Nabulungi at her’s tonight, and,” Arnold raised his eyebrows, “Won’t be home until tomorrow. Our room will be, uh, lonely. For Kevin.”

Kevin rolled his eyes and sank into the couch.

“Elder Cunningham,” Connor said crossly. “Don’t you dare make such a suggestion. Elder Price will return to his room and I will return to mine, exactly the way it should be.”

“Just sayin,” Arnold said, twisting his tie up in his hands. “If I had Kevin alone in my room for a night, I mean, I would be all over that,” his laughter was shrill and he made a grand gesture between himself and Kevin.

“You do have him alone in your room,” Connor said tonelessly. “Every night.”

“He does get pretty cozy sometimes,” Kevin said. “He steals my covers.”

Kevin wondered if Connor would steal the covers. If he was a fitful sleeper from his nightmares or not, if he tossed and turned or laid still, letting his nightmares rattle away in his brain. He thought about waking up next to him in the morning and how nice it would feel to touch his soft sleepy face first thing, to kiss his weird, pretty, heavy eyelids.

Connor pushed Kevin’s feet to the floor, and stood up. Arnold put his hands up in the universal signal for I-come-in-peace, and moved wordlessly across the main room.

“See you tomorrow, buddy,” he said, blowing a kiss.

“Later, pal,” Kevin answered.

“I don’t know how you live with him as a companion,” Connor said.

“I like Arnold,” Kevin said.

“I know you do,” Connor sighed.

“But not as much as I like you,” Kevin grinned in a way that he hoped was charming. He’d never intentionally flirted with another person, let alone another boy, let alone another boy that he knew liked him back. His stomach felt like it was on fire.

“We’re not talking about this,” Connor said, the words were harsh but his tone and eyes were soft.

“But don’t you think that we should?” Kevin got up finally, and rolled his shoulders and popped his joints.

“There’s not really anything to discuss,” Connor said stepping into the kitchen, and Kevin followed. He watched Connor pour himself a glass of water, and drink it.

“I promise this isn’t an insinuation,” Kevin said. “But I would like to talk about it, and with Arnold gone for the night, you could…”

“Kevin Price,” Connor snapped.

“I said I wasn’t insinuating anything,” Kevin said quickly. “When Arnold and I want to talk things through, we make a fort out of our blankets and talk about it.”

“Are you and Arnold 12 years old?”

Kevin shrugged, and he could tell Connor wanted to hit him with something.

“It could be fun,” he said. “Just hanging out, I promise,” He crossed his heart, for good measure.

“You’re impossible,” Connor said, but he set his glass in the sink with a clink, and motioned to Kevin to get out of the doorway. Kevin grinned wide and led the way down the hall.

He used all the sheets from both his and Arnold’s beds to build a small fort. He pushed the beds apart and dragged the bedside tables around to use as support that way Arnold always did. The ceiling hung so lowly that Connor and Kevin had to slouch down pretty far to fit comfortably.

“Arnold does this better,” Kevin admitted.

“This is fine,” Connor said with a smile. “It reminds me of when I was a kid, I used to build forts with my friend Steve.”

“I didn’t have friends,” Kevin said honestly. “But my brother Jack and I had bunk beds, and we’d close up the bottom bunk into a fort, and no one else was allowed in. Except for Dad.”

Connor smiled at this, and Kevin secretly wished he could bring him home to meet his family. Surely Jack would have allowed Connor into the bottom bunk fort, Kevin would have added Connor’s name below his Dad on the _no one allowed except for:_ sign. He wondered if Connor would have entered, though.

“You know, I like you a lot,” Kevin said, giving up on finding a comfortable way to slouch and instead dropping horizontally.

“You promised,” Connor said.

“I’m just saying,” Kevin said. “You know, cause honesty always works and all. And I like you so much.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” Connor said with a complicated look. “Because I like you a lot too.”

Kevin fell quiet and listened to Connor shift uncomfortably before laying down next to him. They stayed quiet like that, the air heavy, and Kevin shifted marginally closer, and Connor eyed him warily. Kevin shrugged.

“You know, sometimes I’m scared that you’re right,” Connor said finally.

“Right about what?” Kevin asked. “I’m often right.”

“Ha ha,” Connor said dully. “I’m scared that I’m denying myself happiness for no reason.”

Kevin wasn’t sure that he was capable of saying anything that couldn’t be misconstrued, so he remained silent.

“I’m scared of being gay,” Connor whispered. “What if I am and I’m going to go to hell no matter what I do?”

“I still think I’m not the best person to have these talks with,” Kevin said. “Especially now. Because of my doubts and now my biases.”

“You’re the only person I can have these talks with.”

Kevin nodded and again wished that he had the skills that Arnold possessed, to be able to say the right thing, or even the wrong thing with the right intention. He didn’t have anything to offer, and he felt useless.

He jumped when he felt Connor’s fingertips on his wrist, and with wide eyes, he turned to see if Connor did it intentionally. Connor was pointedly looking away from him, at the small crack in the sheets that let light in.

Kevin opened his loose fist and turned his hand out palm up, but Connor didn’t take it. He let his fingers sit heavily on Kevin’s wrist bone, though, and he said, “I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” Kevin asked.

“Making this hard,” he still wasn’t looking at him, but his hand on Kevin’s wrist made the moment heavy, and packed with emotion. Kevin understood Connor in that moment, when he usually couldn’t understand him at all.

“There’s no point in being scared of what comes after,” Kevin said. “If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that things don’t go like you plan them. I don’t want to sway you one way or another, but I want you to know that I’ll be okay with whatever you decide and that you will always have me on your side.”

Connor turned, and he said, “I’m glad you came to Uganda.”

“Me too,” Kevin said. He reached for one of the pillows he felt pressing against his knee and pulled it up, to tuck it under Connor’s head. Kevin felt time stop as he ran his hand through Connor’s hair, pushing it back letting his hand drag down the back of his neck and across his shoulder before returning to his own side of the fort.

He smiled and Connor’s fingers slid between his own, and their hands were linked. They didn’t burst into flames or bleed from their eyes, or anything horrific like that, and Kevin couldn’t even feel guilty the way he did the first time he’d broken any other rules.

The shy smile on Connor’s face told Kevin that he felt the same.

They stayed like that, whispering to each other up past the curfew and into the late hours of the night, their hands tangled and their smiles nervous.

“This is so easy,” Connor said, squeezing Kevin’s hand.

“It’s super nice,” Kevin whispered back.

Connor slid almost imperceptively closer, but suddenly Kevin could feel his hot breath on his face. It was suffocating him a little bit, like how it felt when he pulled the covers up over his head as a kid. He felt like he was in a dream, perhaps still snoozing away in Connor’s lap on the couch, and he wanted a breath of cool air like he wanted to kiss Connor’s mouth that was so close to his now.

He shifted in a way that made their noses touch, and then Connor’s eyes closed. Kevin’s throat filled up with cotton, his lead hands and turning stomach made a dramatic and sudden reappearance. He was terrified.

Kevin watched Connor’s heavy eyelids and his hollow cheekbones and brought his free hand up to rest against Connor’s elbow. He wouldn’t have to lean very far to kiss Connor, but his body felt like it was barreling into fight-or-flight mode, so he remained deathly still, just inches from Connor’s face.

It was almost uncomfortable how long they stayed that way, suspended in each other’s space and oxygen and Kevin finally surged forward, prepared to obtain his first kiss, only to stop short again, just a breath away from Connor’s lips.

Connor cracked open an eye and said softly, “You can kiss me, I think. If you want.”

“Are you sure?” Kevin asked. He felt like their lips were already touching, they were so close.

“No,” Connor said, squeezing Kevin’s fingers and breathing quickly. Kevin pulled back, then, and let his eyes drop closed.

“It’s okay if we don’t,” he said.

Connor tucked his head into Kevin’s shoulder and said, “I should probably go to bed.”

“It is late,” Kevin said, and he offered Connor a tired smile. He didn’t suggest that Connor stay, but he didn’t imply that he needed to leave, either. Connor stifled a yawn, and Kevin said, “You seem really tired.”

“I am very tired,” Connor grinned sheepishly. Kevin nodded and bumped their foreheads together.

Connor made no move to get up, so Kevin pulled Arnold’s thick blue blanket up around the both of them, and closed his eyes. If Connor wanted to stay he could, and if he wanted to leave, nothing was stopping him.

\--

Arnold’s crass voice was rarely enough to wake Kevin in the morning, having grown too used to hearing it too early in the morning to care, but when the top of his fort was ripped off and Arnold yelled, “Holey Moley, I didn’t really think it would happen!” Kevin was quickly dragged out of his sleep.

Connor was already awake, and looked miserable to boot. So much for waking up and softly kissing him awake. Or even softly tapping him awake.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said.

“You say that a lot to me,” Connor grumbled, and tucked his head under the blanket.

“We were _talking,_ ” Kevin said to Arnold.

“Yes, forts are good for that,” Arnold said somberly. “You know what else forts are good for?”

Kevin stood then, stopping Arnold from continuing his thoughts and effectively ruining the rest of the fort.

“You slept in your tie,” Arnold said.

“We didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Kevin said, a silent warning _do not do this right now._

Arnold looked torn between making another joke and saying something that might or might not actually be helpful to the situation.

Kevin stared at him, watching him like a time-bomb until he finally said, “Well, I hope some time alone together was fun,” he stepped over Connor, who hadn’t moved, “You know I love buildin’ forts with my buddy, I’m kinda jealous.”

Kevin nodded, and shooed Arnold out of the room. Arnold collected his things to take a shower, blew a raspberry, and quietly clicked the door closed.

“Poptarts probably knows I was here,” Connor said, finally rolling over.

“They probably all heard Arnold just now,” Kevin said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Connor rubbed at his eyes and Kevin asked, “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as ever,” Connor said.

Kevin started picking up, stretching the sheets back over his bed, he patted his blankets so there were no rumples, and he heard Connor say, “Thanks.”

“For what?” he asked.

Connor made a noise in his throat, like he didn’t want to say what he was thinking and hid his face in his hands. He mumbled, “For not kissing me.”

“You’re thanking me for not kissing you?” Kevin asked. He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Connor, still wrapped in Arnold’s blanket.

“I got ahead of myself,” he said. “A lapse in judgement, thank you for not making a big deal out of it.”

Kevin shrugged, “There’s not much to make a big deal out of. We should still have a conversation about it later, but for now you should give me that blanket so I can make Arnold’s bed. It’s time to get up.”

Connor groaned and fell back to the floor.

“Take it,” he said, tugging it mostly off and handing a corner to Kevin.

Kevin laughed and pulled it off the rest of the way.

By the time Arnold returned from his shower, Connor had left, and the beds were perfectly made.

“Did you kiss him goodbye?” Arnold teased.

“We didn’t kiss at all,” Kevin said, but he smiled wide like that was the best news he’d ever shared with anyone.

\--

Before he knew it, they were all crowded around the kitchen table one night, celebrating Kevin’s birthday. His second birthday since arriving in Uganda, and now only a few months until the mission was over. Elder Church made a wonderful cake, and when Kevin blew out the candles he wished for a way to stay with Arnold and Connor forever, to help people in Uganda, or even new places, but to be happy. It was the most selfish and selfless wish he’d ever made, and he knew it wouldn’t come true.

Last year, as every other year since he was nine, he’d wished for a way to get back to Orlando.

Connor was sitting by his side, pressed shoulder to shoulder, and hip to hip, and Arnold was on his other, his arm slung around his neck, and was singing loudly about being best friends to the tune of Happy Birthday.

All the gifts he received were similar to all the gifts the other’s often received on their birthdays as well, as resources here were limited. It didn’t make them any less special though, and the majority of his gifts were now piled into a small stack on the table in front of him. Slips of paper labelled with claims to get him out of bathroom duty, a free day off, or a chore-trade.

Elder Davis gave him a knitted blanket that Sister Kimbe taught him how to make, Nabulungi made one of his favorite African dishes, and Arnold told him that being best friends with him was his gift to him every day, before kissing his cheek with a loud smack.

Connor’s coupon was perfectly square and pink, and it promised an afternoon getting coffee together, and there was a little heart in the corner drawn in glittery gel pen. Kevin tucked that one into his breast pocket.

When the celebration came to end, and they all started going their separate ways, Connor grabbed Kevin by the wrist and asked if he wanted to go for a walk. Kevin nodded dumbly, and let himself be dragged from the hut.

“Are you having a good birthday?” Connor asked.

“The best in years,” Kevin answered honestly.

Connor smiled, and Kevin wondered when his life flipped so wildly that Connor’s smile made him feel more incredible than any of the tasks he’d dreamt of accomplishing could.

They slowed to a stop at the expanse of land that contained the pools of water the villagers had been baptized in and Connor reached out and caught his fingers in one of Kevin’s belt loops. The sun was still a few hours from setting, but was low in the sky and painting Connor’s features orange and soft.

“I could love you, I think,” Kevin said.

“It’s against the rules,” Connor said, looking down at his feet.

“A lot is against the rules,” Kevin said. “To heck with rules.”

Connor laughed behind his hand and sighed.

Kevin could feel Connor’s hand heavy against his hip and resisted the need to pointedly stare, to tell Connor that he was pretty sure his hand on him like that, with the intention Kevin knew was there, was against the rules.

“I think I already love you,” Connor said.

“Well, that’s not fair,” Kevin laughed.

Connor shrugged like it was perfectly fair, and Kevin shoved him.

“What will I do without you?” Kevin asked.

“Die, probably,” Connor said matter-of-factly.

“Very funny,” Kevin shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t put them on Connor.

Connor hummed a bit and bounced on his toes and said, “Will you call me, when we get back?”

“As much as you’d like me to.” Kevin turned his stare from Connor’s face to the sky before he did something stupid.

“I’d like you to as much as you’d like to,” Connor said.

“We’d have to be on a 24 hour phonecall, then,” Kevin said. “Or we could have our brains hardwired together so I could hear your opinion on everything I was seeing.”

“You’re the weirdest person I know,” Connor laughed, “And we both know Arnold.”

“Arnold’s not weird,” Kevin said.

Connor hummed again, and knocked his shoulder to Kevin’s.

“Will you visit?” Kevin asked.

“If it works out, I suppose we can arrange something.”

Kevin clicked his tongue and nodded. “I’ll miss you.”

“Shh,” Connor said. “Now’s not the time. It’s your birthday, you should be happy.”

“I am happy,” Kevin said. “I’m scared of going home.”

“Me too,” Connor said.

They stood together in the evening heat, watching the sky and not touching even though they both desperately wanted to. When they walked back, Connor stopped Kevin from opening the door. He fussed with his tie, and then fussed with Kevin’s, stalling, Kevin assumed, from saying whatever he wanted to say.

“I’m-” Connor stopped. He was twisting Kevin’s tie between his fingers and drew his eyebrows in tight. Connor cleared his throat and Kevin asked, “You’re?”

Connor finally brought his gaze up from the tangled tie to Kevin’s eyes and he looked sad. Kevin wanted to fix it, but didn’t know how.

Connor smoothed Kevin’s tie out and patted his shoulders, and then pulled him down by his neck. He kissed him softly on the cheek, and made a small “Oh!” sound, like he’d surprised himself more than Kevin.

Kevin didn’t say anything, but felt his face get hot and Connor nodded, and patted his shoulders again, and went inside.

Kevin stayed outside for a moment longer, cleared his throat, patted his pockets, resisted to urge to fix his tie again, and followed suit.

It was the best birthday he’d ever had.

\--

Two days until they all boarded their respective planes to go home. Arnold wanted to stay, begged and begged to be able to, but in the end was forced, along with the others to return home.

“I’ll come back,” he told Nabulungi.

Mafala said, “You’d better.”

Kevin wanted to stay with Arnold forever, but he was ready to go home. He’d grown out of his shell over the past two years and grew closer than ever to the villagers, no longer afraid. He did laundry with the women most of all, and loved listening to their gossip, occasionally indulging in gossip of his own.

He wanted to stay with those women, he wanted to stay with Arnold, and he wanted to go home. He wanted to do all of these things and he wanted to hold Connor’s hand and never let go.

Connor wrote his phone number on a slip of paper and Kevin had been double checking its existence every day up until it was time to pack to go home. He wrote it on multiple surfaces, including the side of his suitcase, just in case.

The last few days were the happiest and saddest that Kevin had ever been. He spent all his time clinging to Arnold and Connor’s sides, telling them that he was going to miss them, that he loved them, and that he wanted to be with them forever.

They both told him to calm down, that everything was fine in their own words.

“We’re only a town apart, Kev,” Arnold said, messing up his hair.

“We can see each other every weekend, and have sleepovers until I move back.”

“Nabulungi can visit,” Connor said. He was pressed up to Kevin’s side, his chin hooked over Kevin’s shoulder and Kevin couldn’t think of a single place in the world he’d rather be. Orlando paled in comparison to having his two favorite boys at his side.

“We can plan a trip to Orlando,” Kevin said.

Arnold and Connor both groaned, and Kevin smiled.

They packed their things together that night, and they all slept in the living room, in a massive fort of blankets like eight tightly packed Mormon boy sardines.

It had been Connor’s idea, and they all stayed up talking about their time together, and what they’d do once they were back in the states.

“I’m going to hug my mom,” Elder Davis said. “First thing.”

“I’m going to In-n-Out burger,” Elder Neeley said.

“I’m going to put on a hoodie,” Elder Church said.

They all _ahh’d_ in agreement, the idea of changing out of their church clothes skyrocketing to the top of their lists, a more comforting thought than mothers or favorite foods.

“I’m going to tell my parent’s I’m gay,” Connor said.

Kevin was shocked to find all of the Elder’s dead silent gazes fall on him, and not Connor despite him being the one that spoke.

“You’re…” Kevin ran his hand through his hair and felt his voice crack, “You’re gonna what?”

“I’m gay,” Connor said quickly, almost panicked. “I’m gay, I’m so gay, and I’m going to tell them.”

Kevin nodded, like he was just told Orlando was torn down in his two years abroad. He distantly felt Arnold clap him on the back, and he couldn’t stop staring.

“I kind of want to go to the Apple store,” Poptarts said, smoothly sailing on to the next topic, and saving face for Connor. “See what’s new.”

They all murmured in agreement and again started talking about the things they missed most, the things they would miss from Africa.

Kevin couldn’t tear his gaze from Connor’s, staring back at him.

 _Since when?_ His stare asked.

 _Since just now,_ Connor’s responded.

When they all finally turned in, Connor’s hand was in his under the blankets, and Arnold’s cheek was pressed to his shoulder.

He stared at the ceiling of the fort for hours until he fell asleep wondering what Connor’s revelation meant for him, for _them._

\--

Mafala escorted them to the bus station that would take them into the city. He hugged each of them tightly, wishing them the best, thanking them for their services.

He hugged Arnold the tightest and whispered something in Swahili and Arnold responded, teary eyed. He was the only one of them that could speak in anything that even remotely resembled the language, and Kevin was struck with guilt that he wasn’t going home at all, and was in fact being torn from it.

“Thank you boys,” Mafala said again and turned away from them all. Arnold had said goodbye to Nabulungi before, and Kevin was happy that they got a private send-off. He would have to say goodbye to Connor in the public of the airport.

Kevin fussed with a small slip of paper in the lobby of the airport, his and Connor’s gates in opposite directions.

“I never turned this in,” Kevin said, tucking it into Connor’s hand.

“Oh,” Connor said with a soft smile. The paper was small and pink and promised a coffee date.

“I was wondering if I could, uh, in the states.” Kevin felt his breath coming and going fast, he wanted to ask Connor to be his boyfriend, he wanted to kiss him, and he wanted them to board the same plane.

None of these things would be happening, though, and he was nervous that he shouldn’t have saved the coupon for now, and he should’ve taken advantage of it in Kitguli.

Connor’s eyes looked as wet as Kevin’s felt and he pulled him in to a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Kevin said into Connor’s soft red hair.

“Call me as much as you want,” Connor said, his lips moving against Kevin’s throat as he spoke.

Kevin wanted to crawl into Connor’s pockets and live there, and he wanted to bring Connor home to show him off to his parents. The thought of telling his parents he wanted to court another man hadn’t even crossed his mind until recently, and his brain felt like static if he thought about it too long.

His parents wouldn’t mind, he decided. They’d love Connor as much as he did, he was certain of it.

“Can I, um…” Kevin smoothed the lapels on Connor’s shirt that reminded him of the way Connor had fussed with his tie on his birthday.

“Please,” Connor said.

The kiss was soft, and the bundle of nerves coursing through the both of them made it feel electric. Kevin felt Connor’s lips tremble, and then there was air between them as they pulled apart too soon.

Connor’s eyes opened and he _stared,_ and Kevin suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. He coughed into his fist, and Connor laughed lightly.

They leaned back together, and tilted their heads just so, and Kevin breathed through his nose, and Connor took a sudden breath and Kevin was overwhelmed with the desire to touch his tongue to Connor’s lips. He did, and Connor pulled back, startled.

The Elders were pointedly not paying attention to them, and Connor looked up shyly at Kevin’s mouth.

“Is this okay?” Kevin asked.

“Yes,” Connor said.

“You’re sure?” Kevin asked.

Connor levelled him with _a look,_ and Kevin said, “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re a flirt.”

“I’m your flirt,” Kevin kissed him again.

Connor made a small noise, and Kevin kissed him again. And then once more for good measure. And then he thought that another couldn’t possibly hurt. 

When Arnold called out to them to get a room, he finally stopped, and Connor looked pouty and sad, so Kevin kissed him one last time, as soft and as nice as he could manage. He felt Connor’s lips follow his as he pulled away and he whispered that he was sorry.

“Thank you,” Connor said.

“I love you,” Kevin said back.

Connor’s smile was watery and wobbly and Kevin had to take two full steps back to stop from kissing him again.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Connor said.

Kevin shook his head and made a noise that he hoped conveyed he didn’t mind. He was afraid to speak, the heaviness in his throat was threatening to turn itself into tears.

Connor checked his watch and said, “I’ll see you in America.”

Kevin nodded, and Connor collected his things.

“Kevin.”

Kevin looked up from the black wheels on Connor’s pink case and Connor said, “I love you too.”

\--

The first thing Kevin did after stepping on American soil again was hug his dad as tight as he could. He kissed his mother’s cheek and ruffled the hair of his present siblings – Jack was absent on his mission, London, Canada, his dad told him.

They got home, and he put on a hoodie and jeans, and he didn’t comb his hair. He made himself a bowl of cereal, and he found his old cell phone in his desk drawer.

When it was done updating, he punched in the numbers of all the elder’s, his hands hovering over the small heart emoji when he typed in Connor’s. He tapped on the one that looked like two boys holding hands, instead, and he was certain that emoji hadn’t existed when he’d left on his mission.

He told his parents that he fell in love with a boy, and they responded confusedly but positively, happy to hear that Kevin was happy. His dad patted him on the back and told him it was good to have him home.

He called Connor that night, laying on his bed in his and Jack’s room.

Connor answered, and his voice sounded tinny and warped through the tiny speakers.

“Did you know there’s an emoji of two boys holding hands now?” Kevin asked.

“There is?” Connor asked. “I didn’t notice.”

“I put it by your name,” Kevin suddenly felt very embarrassed and wished he could be next to him.

“I’ll be sure to put it by yours too,” Connor said quietly.

“I told my parents about you.”

“I haven’t talked to mine yet, I just got in.” He sounded nervous and Kevin missed him more than he thought he would. He wanted to hug him, and kiss under his eyes, and ask about nightmares, and press his fingers to his wristbone, and sit in the hot African sun with their knees touching, sticky skin making it uncomfortable but want making it bearable.

“It will be okay,” Kevin said.

“It always is,” Connor said.

“Do you-” Kevin cut himself off.

“…Do I?” Connor prompted.

Kevin cleared his throat and took a shaky breath.

“Did you think that maybe you wanted to be boyfriends?”

Connor was quiet on the line, and Kevin held his breath.

“Honestly, Kevin, there’s nothing I’d want in life more.”

“Really?” Kevin’s voice was an octave higher, and his face felt a shade redder.

Connor laughed and said, “Were you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin admitted. “But I’m glad you said yes.”

Kevin heard noises on the other end of the line, like Connor was unpacking.

“The truth really does always work out doesn’t it?” Kevin asked. “You’re pretty smart, you know?”

“Are you giving me permission to say I told you so?”

“If you want,” Kevin said.

“I told you so.”

“I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Soon,” Connor said, and Kevin could tell it was the truth. He heard a slam, a door maybe, and Connor said, “Oh, that’s my parents. I have to go, but I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Kevin said. “I can’t wait to talk to you again.”

“Goodbye, Kevin,” Connor said.

“Bye, Connor,” Kevin sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, forever honest.

**Author's Note:**

> >Sorry for any glaring mistakes, I didn't have anyone beta this cause I didn't want to force any of my friends to read,,,my book of Mormon fanfiction... 
> 
> >This file is named sorry mom, and it rated gen lol


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